


Merry Holigays

by mercystars



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Secret Identity, They're a Family, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, calls you dude while gazing into your eyes like they hold all the stars, its a holiday special, this is just a bunch of happiness, very background sue/reed, written while listening to frankly ridiculous amounts of michael buble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9046526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercystars/pseuds/mercystars
Summary: Peter couldn’t help but feel bad about how now that the fight’s over, so was his time with Johnny. He started to excuse himself when Johnny interrupts him with a sudden, "Actuallyiwaswonderingifyouwannacomewithus?"He blinks. Peter blinks. "... What?"-Johnny Storm can sing and Peter is so, so happy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> things 2 know:  
> \- peter and johnny are 17 and 18, respectively  
> \- 2 years after the superhero-ing began  
> \- peter maintains a secret identity with the four  
> _ blah blah blah im a sap 
> 
> please comment if you have and compliments, critiques, or catch any errors i missed! This is my first spideytorch fic, and its so stupidly fluffy that its bound to be a tad ooc, so my apologies. let's be honest, though, if they were in character, it wouldn't be nearly as happy. my tumblr is unhelper, love u, happy holidays kids!

Peter can’t believe his eyes.  
Peter can’t believe his _ears_.

Johnny Storm can _sing_.

-

Peter grins wide under his mask as he swings away from MJ’s apartment. He should be upset -- what with him being pulled away from hanging out with his best friend by an inconveniently timed villain attack -- but the smile just won’t go away.  
Something about the holiday season - the cold that doesn't really effect him anyway, the snow that only manages to stick around on rooftops and on stationary cars, the bustling people that refuse to be deterred by the cold, the various apartment windows adorned with lights - just makes him so ridiculously delighted. He can’t even bring himself to mind the attack he’s on his way to stop. There’s one every year, and Christmas Eve wouldn’t be the same without it. 

Through some kind of miracle, the mid-morning sun was making a brief appearance. It makes everything sparkle in such a nice way. It looks even more amazing when viewed from above. Lucky for him, ‘above’ was how he always looked at everything. 

Partly to stick with the holiday spirit, and partly because even though his suit had gotten upgrades in the last two years, it still wasn’t too warm, Peter had donned a red and blue sweater. He had haphazardly ironed on a spider-man symbol to the front, upon MJ’s insistence. The Christmas scene that was the back of the sweater was all this doing, though. He refused point-blank to do anything simply, so he had cut out the back of the original sweater, and stitched in the back of one his ugly Christmas sweaters in it’s place. Peter looked amazing with Rudolph and Santa waving cheerily at everyone he passed, thank you very much. 

So, holiday-edition Spider-Man thwips his way across the city to stop a museum robbery, shouting _Ho ho ho!_ down to civilians and humming songs to himself all the way.

-

“Hey, Spider-man! Glad you could join us!”

The sounds of the fight had warned him of what he’d be up against, but they had in no way prepared him for it. 

The Grinch is trying to steal Christmas.

Okay, maybe he’s more trying to steal precious artifacts, but he’s dressed as the _Grinch_ and Peter’s both impressed at the dedication and trying not to bust out laughing. He can’t even bring himself to care why he’s decided to steal artifacts, because it looks like he’s carrying them in a giant red-and-white sack thrown over his shoulder, and _holy shit_ Peter wishes he had his camera. 

The fight itself is taking place in the street in front of the museum. The Fantastic Four are already on the scene, The Human Torch being the one that called out to him. He doesn’t really seem to be doing anything, other than hovering over the fight and laughing while occasionally trying to make a fire barrier.

The Invisible Woman seems to have been practicing her more precise barrier techniques, because she’s catching and containing explosions from pumpkin-bomb-esque ornaments. Ornament-bombs. This guy really put some dedication into this. Peter is once again reminded of why he loves New York. Mister Fantastic is attempting to stretch his arms to grab the bag from the Grinch, with little success. The only reason Peter can think of to explain why he wouldn’t be winning is if he wasn’t really trying to. When Peter spots the Thing sitting on a crushed car eating a candy cane, everything sets into place in Peter’s head. 

The Four aren’t really trying to put this guy away. Sure, for the Grinch this might be a super life-altering battle, the most interesting thing he’s ever done, but to the Four? This is going to be logged into their memories as a funny Christmas Eve story to be told near the tree to get everyone laughing. And Peter is here to see it. 

Torch hovers on closer to where Peter is crouched, on the building above the street. “Spidey! Please tell me you find this as hilarious as I do.”

Peter shifts and turns to face him, grinning at Johnny through his mask. “Dude, are you kidding? I’ve had some wacky battles, but this? This is on a _whole_ nother level.”

“Wow, you’re bumping down Stilt-man’s wacky battle cred for this guy? He’d be so hurt, man. Give your ridiculous rouge’s gallery some respect,” Johnny teased. He flamed off to stand next to Peter on the ledge, smiling at him. Peter straightened up and shoulder-checked him lightly. 

“You’re totally right,” Peter said with ease, “I really should give good ol’ Stilt-man the credit he’s due. It takes guts to be that laughably awful and still take yourself seriously.”

“Says the dude in the worst sweater I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Who ever said I took myself seriously?” Pete said, and Johnny laughed and threw an arm over Peter’s shoulders, before looking down at Sue and Reed and the villainous Christmas fanatic. 

Peter’s experience with the Fantastic Four was spotty, but Johnny Storm had always been different story. Peter tried to talk to him whenever he could, if just to see the way his nose crinkled when he thought something was particularly funny or how the ends of his hair began to turn into fire when he got really happy. His eagerness to be friends led to many-a-patrol ending in hot dogs and milkshakes. On the really good nights, they’d go to the Baxter building and play Mortal Kombat until the sun came up. 

Johnny’s grip on Peter’s shoulder tightens for a moment and he looks at him. “Spidey, when did we ever get lucky enough for our lives to be _this_ ,” gesturing to the fight with his other arm. “We’re never going to run out of stories. How awesome is that?” 

Johnny said it while looking right into Peter’s eyes. His ability to find them despite the mask was on point as ever. Admittedly, it had been weird at first, but now it was a comfort. A comfort that made Peter’s heart beat a little faster, but a comfort nonetheless. “Yeah,” he says, “for all it’s ups and downs, this never gets old.”

They stand there like that, looking at each other, before Johnny’s arm slips from around Peter’s shoulders. The atmosphere is different, now -- Johnny has this little smile on his face, and his eyes are soft -- Peter feels like his breathing has weight. “We should probably go down there and wrap this up. The story won’t be as good if we let this go on too long, ya know?” Johnny says. It snaps Peter partially out of the daze he and Johnny fell into. 

Peter finds himself smiling again before he says, “Sounds good, matchstick. Lead the way.”

So, Johnny flames on, and Peter jumps down to the ground, and they set to work. 

-

Ten minutes later, the Grinch is wrapped in webbing and all the artifacts are put back where they belong. All fires are put out, and the only collateral damage besides the burn marks on the pavement, is the car that the Thing had been sitting on. 

Peter dusts his hands off for no reason other than for the point the gesture makes. Johnny turns him around from where he was standing, faced towards the squad cars that were taking the angry green furry away. Peter barely has time to react before being assaulted with an over-eager high five. He was able to high five back, of course; he’d be damned if Johnny ever got past his reflexes. He’d never live it down. 

Johnny tells him that he did good, and that it was fun, and they ended it at a good time, that it’ll make for the best story. Peter couldn’t help but feel bad about how now that the fight’s over, so was his time with Johnny. He started to excuse himself when Johnny interrupts him with a sudden, “Actuallyiwaswonderingifyouwannacomewithus?”

He blinks. Peter blinks. “... What?”

“I, uh. I wanted to know, if you’d, like. Want to come back to the Baxter building with the Four and I? Spend the evening with us? I asked Sue and Reed already, and they’d love to have you over, you know you’re practically family so they really wouldn’t mind. So.”

Peter’s mind starts to process a few things at once. First, that Johnny is blushing. Second, that Johnny is acting _nervous,_ what the _hell._ (Somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter puts together that in the whole time he and Johnny have been doing this dance around each other, Johnny has never acted nervous. Even in silence after something not so just-friendly, Johnny’s kind eyes nullified any tension. The fact that he’s acting awkward was slightly alarming.) Third, that he’s being invited for family time, not Johnny time. Why did that make Johnny more anxious than when it was just the two of them? And fourth, the hopefulness that Johnny is wearing openly in his expression and in his posture. The tenseness of his shoulders, his fingers rubbing together at his side, the slight clench to his (very nice) jaw. 

It doesn't take long for Peter to say yes, after logging all that. The way Johnny’s face lights up is totally worth it.

-

It’s 3pm and Peter is sitting on the arm of the Four’s large couch, watching Reed do the most interesting present-wrapping job he’s ever seen. Johnny is sitting on the actual couch cushion next to the arm Peter’s on. They both are staring in appraisal, but Johnny doesn’t seem nearly as stunned. He moves his head just an inch towards Peter, eyes not leaving Reed, and says quietly, “I’ve watched him do the last-minute present wrapping for years now, but it really does not get any less weird.” Peter can’t help but agree. The way that Reed stretches to grab present after present without moving anything but his arms is… odd, to say the least. Impressive. 

“Who are they even all for?” Peter whispers back. Speaking loudly would be like breaking the zone Reed is in. 

“All the other heroes we’ve made friends with, I think? Shulkie, Wyatt, T’challa, and others? I mean, I know we have alliances, but… it’s a good thing we can afford to buy all these presents.”

The face Peter pulls at the mountain of gifts would make Johnny laugh, had he been able to see it. Instead, Pete huffs out a laugh and just says, “Dude, I would never stop buying people stuff if I had your money. I think you’re fine,” and then, after a pause, “Hey, do you have any sweatpants I could borrow? As much as I love wearing spandex, it’s not the best for comfortable december evenings.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Johnny had removed his uniform right when they got back to the BB, and was now wearing pajama pants and an impressively awful sweater that looked as itchy as it was cheesy. “There should be some in the bottom drawer of the dresser in my room. Help yourself.”

Peter quirks a hidden eyebrow. Johnny can see it anyway. “You trust me in your room alone? How kind of you, Torch.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s an honor, don’t let it go to your head, yadda yadda yadda. Just go, doofus,” shooing him towards his room, “I’m gonna start making cookies.”

Peter lets himself into Johnny’s room, and is pleased to find that it’s still a disorganized mess, like it’s been every time he’s come over. Bed made in a very half-assed, very Johnny way, video game controllers on the ground in front of the tv, door to the bathroom open. Peter wouldn’t have it any other way. He shucks off the top half of his suit that he was wearing under his sweater before pulling himself out of his boots and pants. It includes a lot of hopping and shimmying, as is standard for removing spandex, but it gets the job done. He pulls on the first pair of comfortable pants he finds - light blue, plaid, and fleece - that look _so_ good with his sweater. His mask stays on, but Peter decides to pull it up to his nose, just to be a little more friendly. 

The happy sounds of christmas music meet his ears the moment he pulls the door open. Peter smiles, because Christmas music is his shit, he can’t get enough, but he stops dead in his tracks the second he reaches the kitchen. 

Johnny Storm is standing, tall and proud in his wonderfully ugly sweater, combining dry ingredients, and he is _singing_. Along to Michael Bublé. And he’s hitting _every. Single. Note._

As if that wasn’t enough, he’s singing in a higher octave, and hitting different chords, which means he is harmonizing, and now Peter can almost not hear him over his inner mantra of _oh my god oh my god oh my god_. He notes, distantly, that he’s blushing from his cheeks to his chest. His collarbones have always been prone to blushing, and because he took the top half of his suit off and his sweater has a scoop neck, Johnny will be able to see that.

The thought only makes him blush harder.

(In the living room, Ben can see Peter standing stock still, unable to believe his ears. He chuckles. Maybe someone should’ve warned him about the set of lungs on Johnny. It looks like he isn't really able to handle this development.)

Before he can stop himself, Peter chokes out, “Ho ho hoooly _shit_.”

Johnny spins on his heel, mixing bowl still in hand, and beams. He wasn’t shy about looking Peter up and down, and he barks out a laugh. “Dude! Wow, I’m impressed, your fashion sense is almost as bad as Ben’s! Did you put effort into clashing?”

It takes him a moment, but once Peter works past the lump in his throat, he says, “Were. Were you just singing? Like, was that actually your voice, just now?” He doesn't say, _’Because if it was, I think I’ll just lay down and die right here, thanks,’_

Johnny rubs at the back of his neck with the hand that isn't on the bowl, and then reaches out to turn down the music a bit. “Ah, haha, yeah. Did I mention I used to do choir when I was a kid?”

Peter’s mouth just drops open wider. He got _that_ voice just from childhood choir? Johnny smiles sheepishly, and maybe a little fondly. “Man, I’m going to take your shock as a compliment, but you honestly look like you’re trying to catch flies.” 

Instead of snapping his mouth shut, Peter sucks in a breath and, before he can think, says, “You should start singing again, right now, I think.”

Johnny beams in that dorky way that makes Peter’s heart hurt, and turns the music back up. 

-

For the remainder of the time it takes for Johnny to bake the cookies, Peter sits at the kitchen’s bar stools, head resting on his folded arms, and he listens. He can’t remember a time when he’s been so content with sitting still. Because of his vigilante schedule, he doesn’t get tired until pretty late, so he’s dimly surprised when his eyes start slipping shut at only four o’clock in the afternoon. 

-

Johnny sets the cookies on the counter top and takes a moment to appreciate his handiwork. Then he looks up and takes a moment to appreciate the dozing boy across from him. His smile reaches his eyes when he notices Spidey’s lips are pulled into a content smile, as well. He looks so cute that Johnny doesn’t even pause to wonder why he’s so smitten for a boy that would pair that sweater with those pants. 

Sue pops her head into the kitchen. She’s about to speak, then sees Spidey passed out, and aims a knowing smile at Johnny. “We’re going to watch the Snoopy christmas movie,” she says, “ask if Spider-man can stick around for a while to see it with us?”

“Yeah, sure thing. I’m sure he’ll be up for a movie.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to give him his present before he goes home, alright?”

“Of course, sis. How could I forget?”

-

Peter woke up to a warm hand on his shoulder and a face close to his. “Hey, Spidey,” Johnny whispered. Peter hummed, questioning. “We’re all gonna watch a movie now. Think you wanna stay and see it with us?” 

“Umm..” Peter stalled, mind moving slowly. “Yeah, I think I can. Gotta be home ‘round nine. Does that work out alright?” he mutters, eyes cracking open. 

“Yeah. You weren't out too long, and the movie is short, I think. And if you fall asleep, I promise to wake you up.”

“Promise promise?”

“Promise promise.” 

“Hm. Okay then, sounds good,” Peter says lifting himself out of his seat. “Let's watch the hell out of kid’s holiday movies.” 

Pretty soon, they're all piled up in the living room. Ben in his love seat, Sue and Reed stretched out on the long couch, Peter and Johnny sat next to each other on the smaller sofa. The Christmas tree twinkles nearby, and the room smells like snickerdoodle cookies, and Peter still has not stopped smiling. 

Johnny is so, so warm. Peter is pretty sure he's warming the whole floor with just his body heat. He'd be lying to himself if he said it wasn't really nice, and he's already sleepy. It seems like the most natural thing in the world to tuck himself against Johnny’s side. 

There's an arm around him as Johnny shifts them quietly into a more laid-back position, so Peter is squished between the back of the sofa and Johnny’s chest. He isn't complaining. In fact, he might go as far as to wrap his arm around his torso and butt his head to him, but he'll deny it if asked. He was really wrong about the sweater; it seems like the softest thing in the world at the moment. 

The real fun begins when the movie’s first song does, because Johnny decides to hum along. 

The vibrations in his chest are just as beautiful as when his voice is at full volume. He may or may not hold Johnny a little closer at the sound and feel of it. 

-

Sue looks at her brother from her place next to Reed on the couch. Spider-man is gripping Johnny’s torso like a lifeline, very obviously asleep. His face is smashed pretty hilariously into Johnny’s chest, and she'd laugh if the whole scene wasn't so sweet. To her, the best part of it is the look on her brother’s face. Johnny has dated, a lot if she's being honest, so she knows how rare it is for him to really look at someone like that. His expression is impossible fond, as he sings quietly to the boy curled up on his chest. 

-

The movie eventually ends, and Spidey is still asleep. Johnny grabs for his phone to see the time -- 8:30 pm. He groans inwardly. He really does not want to wake him up, but he knows Spidey would have his head if he didn't wake him. He needs to get home for the rest of Christmas Eve with his aunt (his aunt is all he's gotten out of him about his family). Reluctantly, Johnny brings up his hand to run his thumb across his cheek. 

“Hey, Spidey. Time to wake up again, buddy.” 

He just nuzzles closer, groaning in displeasure, and Johnny’s heart flips in his chest a little. “C’mon, man. Don't make my heart do a gymnastics routine over this. Wake up.” 

Spidey grumbles for a bit, then lifts his head. Johnny's hand is still on his cheek. 

“Hey,” Spidey whispers. 

“Hi,” Johnny says back. 

The rest of the team had filed out of the room after the movie, and well. They were really, really close. 

Spider-man lifts his arm from around Johnny’s waist to grab the hand on his face for a moment, before he… oh. Johnny is never going to forget this, ever in his life. 

Spider-man pulls the mask off the rest of his face, and Johnny can't breathe. He gets to make eye contact with Spidey for real, for the first time. He's still not breathing. “Oh,” he whispers. 

“I’m Peter.” 

He's met with silence. After a beat, he says, uncertainly, “Merry Christmas?” 

There's only one moment before Johnny makes up his mind and closes the gap between them.

The kiss is slow, and warm. It's sure. Peter’s eyes flutter closed and his lashes are long enough to brush Johnny’s face slightly. 

They both know it doesn't last that long, but it seems like forever and a week. Eventually, they break away, and their smiles are back. 

-

Johnny hands Peter his gift when they're standing on the roof. 

“Oh, no. You did not. God, I didn't get you anything,"Peter groans, "Why would you do this to me.” He takes the gift anyway. 

“Quit your whining, Pete. You saw the mountain of gifts we got for everyone - we'd be damned if we didn't get one for you, too.” 

Peter huffs. “Well, that’s fair, I guess. Still totally lame that you didn't tell me, but fair. Uh, should I open it now, or…?”

“Oh, no, open it when you get home. The suspense needs to build.” 

Peter shoots him a look. “Johnny, if this is like, a dildo or something, I’m never speaking to you again.” 

“No promises.” 

“Yeah, okay, I’m leaving now,” Peter said, starting to pull his mask down and stepping up onto the ledge. 

“Wait! One more thing.” Johnny flames on and flies the few feet to catch Peter’s lips before he pulls his mask down all the way. “Stop by sometime soon?” 

Peter smiles, their foreheads pressed together. “I’d be damned if I didn't.” 

-

Peter gets the chance to open his gift on Christmas morning. He sits cross-legged on his bed, and his face is beginning to hurt from smiling so much. 

In front of him lays a box, and in it are three things: an ear comm piece, a Four handheld communicator, and a piece of paper with four phone numbers on it. There's a message on the paper. 

_Merry Christmas, Spider-Man! You'll always have family and friends in us. Don't hesitate to use these, okay? From, Johnny, Reed, Sue and Ben._

Peter will stop to ponder about having real and true allies on the field later, but right now? Right now, all he can think is that this will make it a whole lot easier to get an invite to the Four’s New Year’s party.


End file.
